


Teacher Parent AU

by e_li_za



Category: Carry On - Rainbow Rowell, Simon Snow series - Gemma T. Leslie
Genre: M/M, One Shot, cute fluffiness, dad simon, i love this thing tbh, teacher baz
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-27
Updated: 2016-03-27
Packaged: 2018-05-29 13:05:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6375925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/e_li_za/pseuds/e_li_za
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A one shot i did over on my tumblr (it's e-li-za too lol) that i really liked and decided to post here!</p>
<p>Prompt: teacher and parent of a student</p>
            </blockquote>





	Teacher Parent AU

BAZ

PTA meetings are always fun, especially at the beginning of the school year. These parents always seem to get so riled up over whose 5 year old is getting higher marks and who has the best cakes at the bake sale. It’s honestly hilarious. 

I teach year 3 at Watford, because I find that 7 to 8 is the stage after the kids cease to be screaming babies, but before they turn into total assholes. 

Now, I’m sitting at the teacher’s table, looking over the crowd. I see the usual suspects, Julie, whose son eats vegan, Martha, who used to teach maths and knows everything about education, Sara and Adrianna, the lesbian couple who are actually pretty chill (except when it comes to field hockey) and Diane, the reigning PTA president. 

But, I see a new face in the crowd. He’s about my age, with messy curls and a befuddled expression. He sees me staring, and gives me a half-hearted little smile. All too soon, the meeting begins. Diane uses her gavel (which she bought herself on the internet) and calls the meeting into session. 

“Now, everyone, I’m sure we’re all excited for this upcoming school year, but before we get into the nitty gritty stuff, I say we should introduce ourselves for the sake of any newcomers. I’ll start.”

The introductions go in a circle around the room, eventually getting to me. 

“Hello, I’m Basilton Pitch, but my students call me ‘Mr. Pitch’. I teach year 3 class B.”

A few more people speak, and then it gets to him. I can tell that he was the one everyone really wanted to hear about, because the room goes silent. 

“Hi. I’m Simon Snow, and I have a daughter, Lucy, who a 3rd year and is actually in Mr. Pitch’s class.”

Of course I’m the one who ends up with the hot dad. 

“And…”

A new voice cuts through the quiet.

“are you here with your wife?”

It’s Helen Thompson. It’s always Helen Thompson. 

He laughs uncomfortably. 

“Nope. Don’t have one of those at the moment.”

Helen looks over at Sara and Adrianna, and then at me, and then back at Simon. 

“Your husband, then?”

He blushes a bit, and then responds. 

“Nope, it’s just me.”

Of course I get the hot, single dad. 

The meeting continues, but I can’t seem to focus on anything except Simon Snow. He’s like a magnet, pulling all attention to him. God, when I have to see him on a daily basis I don’t know how I’ll survive. Who knows? His kid could turn out to be a demon, and I would have a reason to hate him. 

SIMON

It’s the first day of school, and Lucy is squirming in her booster seat.

“Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaad.”

“Yes, love?”

“When are we going to get there?”

“Soon.”

She is silent for a while. But, not a long while.

“Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaad”

“Yes, love?”

“What’s the school like?”

I think back to my first visit to Watford primary school. The campus was nice enough, and inside were the standard desks and chalkboards. However, it had seemed older somehow. Grander, with more history. And the people… well, the people were a whole other ball game.

“It’s very nice. I’ve also met your new teacher.”

“Ooooh! Is she pretty?”

I laugh at that. 

“He’s a ‘he’ actually”

“Well… is he pretty then?”

I think back to Mr. Pitch, with his high cheekbones and glossy hair and tan skin and grey eyes. My face goes slightly pink. 

“Yes, I think he is quite pretty.”

She seems satisfied with that answer, and looks out the window. She’s small and thin, like her mother, but also loud and rowdy and ready to fight. I love her more than anything. 

“We’re here! We’re here!” she yells, seeing the Watford sign out front.

“Yep. You excited?”

She nods enthusiastically. I pull up to the parking lot. 

“Do you want me to walk you in?”

She looks back and forth at the school and me. It must seem very large and imposing to such a small person. 

“Yeah.”

I park the car and walk her in, holding her hand. All around me are stay at home moms with minivans and highlights. I can feel them judging me. I walk with her down the halls, and go into her classroom. Standing there, at the front of the room, is Mr. Pitch. 

Lucy takes a good look at him, and then turns to me. “You’re right, dad, he is pretty!”

I blush, and try to save the situation by throwing him a “kids say the darndest things” look, which seems to work. 

“Lucy Snow, I assume?”

“Yes. And this is my dad.”

“Yes,” he says, smiling at me, “we’ve met.”

He really is pretty, especially when he smiles. I give Lucy a hug and begin to walk toward the exit.  
“It was nice seeing you again, Simon.”

“You too Basilton.”

I leave quickly. He remembered my name. 

BAZ

There is no way in hell I am ever going to hate Simon Snow. His child is adorable, if talkative. She’s the new kid at school, but she appears to have already made friends with half the class. And he… he’s perfect. 

The first day goes fine. I give the kids their school supply list and have them play a few introductory games. I have a feeling that this is going to be a good group. 

All too soon, the day is over, and the kids are packing up. I hear a knocking at the door, and, lo and behold, Simon Snow is back again. Lucy runs to him, and he wraps her up in his arms. 

“How was the first day?”

“So so so so so so fun!” 

He looks up at me. 

“Hi again, Basilton.”

“Just Baz works fine, thank you.”

“Okay… Baz” he says, testing the word out on his lips. His soft-looking, pink lips… I need to stop.

“How was your first day then, Baz?”

He is too nice. 

“Great. I think we have a good group this year.”

“Yeah? Lucy wasn’t too much trouble?”

“No, she’s great.”

He smiles. I would die for that smile. 

“Well, see you tomorrow.”

Lucy waves “Goodbye Mr. Pitch!”

SIMON

The days pass like this: I take Lucy to school (say hi to Baz), go to work, and then pick her up (and say hi to Baz). Thankfully, my boss, Ebb, understands my situation and is flexible with hours. We’re new to town, so Ebb is one of the only friends I have. Well, her and Baz Pitch. 

I find myself thinking about him at work, looking forward to seeing him and talking to him. None of the other parents pick up their kids from the classroom, but Baz hasn’t told me to stop, so I don’t think he minds. Lucy is happier in his class than she has been in a long time. I think I am too. 

Now, I’m walking her down the hall, going into the classroom. But, there, at the desk, in stead of Baz, is some random woman. 

“Hello sir.”

“Where is Baz?”

I recognize that it’s probably a bit rude, but I need to know. 

“Mr. Pitch isn’t here today.”

Baz is never out. He doesn’t take sick days.

“O-okay then.” 

I look down at Lucy. She looks worried too.

“Have a good day sweetie.”

I drive to work, still preoccupied with his whereabouts. For the entire rest of the day, the only thing on my mind is Basilton Pitch. Even Ebb notices how worried I am. 

“Simon. Is everything alright?”

“Yeah… it’s just…”

Just what? “My daughter’s teacher is out for the day and now I’m obsessively worrying about him”? That’s not a thing that normal people do. 

“It’s nothing.”

She gives me an incredulous look, and then moves on. 

When I go back to Watford, there’s still a small part of me that hopes that Baz will be there, in his classroom, like normal. But, it’s still the substitute. I scoop up Lucy and drive home. I smile at her sadly in the rear-view mirror. 

“How was your day, love?”

“Okay. The substitute was fine, but I miss Mr. Pitch.”

“Yeah, me too.”

I barely sleep that night. I don’t know why this is tearing me up so much, but it is. 

When I wake up, I pray that he’s there, back where he belongs. I haven’t prayed since I was in primary school. What is happening to me?

The drive is short and tense. Lucy can sense my worry, and mimics it on her own face. 

We almost run to the classroom, and there… is another substitute. I let out a sigh. Lucy squeezes my hand. She’s 7 years old, but she’s already parenting me. 

At work, I try, and fail, to find him on facebook. I should have known. He’s way too cool to have a facebook. 

Every day it goes the same. I wake up, pray to every deity I know that he’s back at school, and am promptly let down. 

The days slowly turn into weeks, and I haven’t been this depressed since Agatha left. I try to put on a good face for Lucy, but it’s hard. One night, when I’m tucking her into bed, she asks, “Dad, are you okay?” 

“Yeah, I’m okay sweetie.”

“Why are you so worried about Mr. Pitch?”

What am I supposed to tell her: “I still have serious abandonment issues from when your mother left us along with my terrible childhood, and also I think I may have been falling in love with your primary teacher”?

So, instead, I say, “I don’t know, sweetie. I don’t know.”

I reach out to everyone I know at the school: the other teachers, the principal, even Helen Thompson. The answer is always the same, “I’m sorry Simon, I don’t know.”

Despite everything, I still walk Lucy into class every morning, hoping that Baz will be there. Now, I’m holding her hand, walking her down the hallway. I go up to the door, and, just as I’m about to step inside, my heart stops. 

Standing there, with a cast on his arm and a large bruise on his perfect face, is Basilton fucking Pitch. My breath catches in my throat, and I can’t believe he’s here. He’s not dead. He’s battered and bruised, but he’s here. He sees me, and his face lights up. 

Before I even know what I’m doing, I’m running towards him. I feel like tackling him, but he’s too fragile for that. All of a sudden, I’m right in front of him. 

“Baz?”

He looks at me, eyes watering. 

“Simon.”

I have to touch him, have to make sure he’s real. So, I reach my hand up to his cheek, cupping his face in my hand. 

“Baz.”

He’s so pale and thin and broken. 

“Baz, where were you? I missed you so much. Where were you?”

He leans his face into my hand. He looks so tired.

“I got into a wreck. I was in and out of consciousness for a couple weeks. But… I missed you too Simon. So much.”

“You were in a coma Baz, how could you have missed me?”

He laughs tiredly. 

“I missed you so much I missed you in a coma.”

I stare at his eyes and his lips and his face is still in my hand, and I’m running my thumb over his cheek. I would miss him if I were in a coma. I would still miss him if I were dead. 

I lean in close, and kiss him gently. 

BAZ

Simon Snow is kissing me. This man was the only thing keeping me alive in that hospital room, those curls and those eyes and those stupid jokes. According to my sister Mordelia, I said his name in my sleep more than a few times. He saved my life and now he’s kissing me like it will make everything better. Kissing me to say sorry. Kissing me to make sure I’m real. 

SIMON

Baz melts into the kiss and sighs into my lips. I love him. I do, I love him. I hear a school bell ring. Then, and only then, do I realize that we’re standing in front of a packed class of 3rd years. 

Baz figures it out too, and we break apart, looking at the class. Twenty pairs of dinner-plate-sized eyes stare back at us. I look over at my daughter. Her smile is wide, and she gives me a thumbs up. The cheeky little shit. 

Baz uses his un-casted hand to brush off his shirt. He looks over at me.

“I’ll, um, I’ll see you at pick up, then?”

“Yeah, you will.”

I smile at him, and then edge my way out of class. Lucy is grinning at me. I see Jack Thompson sitting next to her, staring me down. Boy, is his mom going to have a field day with this.


End file.
